A Christmas Carol Troll
by jcwriter
Summary: Severus Snape has gone too far, becoming the ultimate Scrooge. Can the three 'ghosts of Christmas,' handpicked by the Ghost of Sirius Black, turn him around, or at the very least, keep him from ruining Harry's last Christmas at Hogwarts?
1. Chapter 1

_Welcome to A Christmas Carol Troll, a Dark Parody!_

_ This story takes place after JKRowling's book six (Unlike my other books that start after book 4.) and a mix of Harry Potter and Dicken's Christmas Carol. I did use a couple of original, previously developed characters as cameos and also to fill in a couple of parts; the parody of Belle/Elizabeth (depending on whether we're speaking of the actual short story or play of CC) will be played by Jennifer, and 'Tiny Tim' (No, not the ukulele dude! The kid-in-distress-about-to-die dude!) will be filled in by Essie and Corey Willowby. But...you don't need to know their backstories for this, simply that I put them there because nobody among the JKR characters really fit for those rolls._

_ I had originally wanted this to be light and comedic, but the serious tone of book six and the darkness of the original Christmas Carol led me down a much different path. You'll find Christmas Past is super different than the Dickens, because I thought it was more important to play to Snape in that chapter. Anyhow, enjoy. It's my first parody through this medium :)_

A Christmas Carol Troll

A Forward by Harry Potter

Of all the years of my tumultuous youth, none would be so dark or so memorable as that last year of Hogwarts; no matter how greatly I have wanted to forget most of it. I had not wanted to go back to school any more than I had wanted to return to the Dursley's as I had promised. That was, of course, before the Ministry decided, as usual, not to listen to reason and committed what I thought then was the dastardliest crime imaginable; appointing Severus Snape to the Headmaster position, despite all of the 'allegations' of murder. I knew what sort of danger we would be in if we went back, but at the same time, how could we stand by and not go when all of our friends would be in jeopardy?

It had been nothing short of surprise and terror when we learned that Arthur and Molly Weasley still planned to send Ginny there; it was only after events unfolded that I realized it was so they could play their own part in the terrible ending of that year. But this is not that story, nor have I ever any intention of telling that story for myself when so many are more than willing to tell you about it. Instead, I will tell you a story that had, honestly, very little to do with me, although it did very much have an impact on the events in my life after the fact; an event that led to my only moment of light during that dark and desperate seventh year. -Harry.

I

_God Rest in Peace You Gentle Mans_

_Let nothing stop dismay!_

_Remember us the Carol Trolls_

_Have come on Christmas day!_

_To save yourselves you give us stuff_

_Den we will go away!_

_Oh, Tidings of discomfort and boils,_

_Discomfort and boils,_

_Oh, Tidings of discomfort and boils!_

"My ears! My ears!" Ron said. After stuffing them with cotton and covering them with earmuffs, Ron had grabbed his wand and pointed it at himself. But Hermione arrived and smacked it away before he deafened himself permanently.

"You want them to stop singing? Then help me!" Hermione demanded, handing him a list.

"Hermione, what is that? Stop who from singing?" Harry asked, still having a pillow curled around his head.

"Carol Trolls, of course! I'm helping McGonagall organize the scavenger hunt, just gather everything up, and don't forget to let a Professor know what you're taking," Hermione said, shuffling through papers in her hand and holding two out. "Here. Now hurry up!"

"Anything to stop this racket!" Ron grumbled, taking one. Harry took one as well, and Hermione hurried out of the dormitories.

"A pair of ice skates? Sled? Exercise Equipment? A throne fit for a Troll King?" Harry read off, forced to shout as the rowdy Trolls broke into song again. "What is all this?"

"Surely you've heard of Carol Trolls, Harry! You know, troll the ancient yule-tide carol?"

"You have got to be kidding!" Harry said.

"This is part of their bribery list. All we need to do is find worthless junk that can be used for those jobs and they'll take it. Come on, let's get away from these windows!" Ron begged, and the two of them headed out into the stairwell, where all of the paintings were holding their hands over their ears as well.

"So, where are we supposed to find this worthless junk?"

"Wherever. Dustbins and the like. See, Carol Trolls used to be scavengers that live on mountain tops, but people began giving them stuff to stop singing, and they realized they were getting a good deal. So every winter they come out of their hidden villages and harass people by singing until they give them all sorts of broken junk to use in their villages. Father says there's no point in driving them off…there really isn't anywhere for them to go, and they do get rid of a lot of broken stuff nobody wants anymore."

"A new meaning to recycling," Harry agreed, following him out to the Quidditch Pitch. "Have something in mind already?"

"Remember those Bludgers that Seamus 'accidentally' disenchanted during our first game? I think Madame Hooch still has them. They'll work for weights, I think," Ron said. "Hey, is that old door to the boat shack still laying down near the docks?"

"Don't tell me, the sled?" Harry grinned, matching Ron's quick pace. "Think Hagrid might have something for skates? Maybe a pair of his brother's boots, or something?"

"It won't be fun going around those bellowing brutes to get there, but it's not a bad idea," Ron agreed.

As they gathered the items, they saw several other teams, mostly staff members, gathering their own collection. McGonagall and Filch were both busy raiding Filch's supply closet for everything from broken sconces to empty painting frames, and even a sullied mop was thrown into the pile. Even Flitwick was carrying pieces of broken equipment and several hazy telescope lenses he had tied up with wire to form makeshift magnifying glasses.

"Seems like everyone's getting into it," Ron said as they huffed down the main corridor, dragging the Bludgers and a pair of huge hide boots with bent fireplace pokers on top of the broken door. "Everyone but Snape. I'm surprised he isn't out there toasting them or something."

"I don't think he's in the castle at the moment, and he can stay away all break as far as I'm concerned," Harry said, stopping to take a breath. "I'm sickened enough by the fact he's still here, let alone how he runs the school."

"At least he's done a better job than Umbridge," Ron muttered under his breath. Harry stopped short again and stared at him.

"By all rights he should be dead by now, or at least in Azkaban!"

"Well, don't turn on me. I know that, Harry!" Ron said. Ron wasn't about to back down to his friend's temper. "I'm not sticking up for him, it's just stating a fact. I don't think he deserves it any more than you do, and I'm all for seeing him shackled to a dungeon somewhere. But how are you going to prove it when Snape's got them all convinced that you were seeing things because of 'the tragedy of the death, compacted with a delusional spell that was apparently forced upon you during the encounter.'"

"What a load of…"

"I know, Harry! Would you stop turning on your friends, or don't you have enough enemies yet?" Ron challenged him. Harry sighed.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, pulling the door a few more yards. "Any thoughts to where we're supposed to get a throne fit for a Troll King?"

"One," Ron admitted, and then paused again at the doors of the Great Hall. The doors were open, and his eyes automatically focused in on the Headmaster's chair.

"Ron, I hope you're not thinking what I think you're thinking," Harry murmured, staring at it as well.

"Why not? You're the one that always says he doesn't deserve it. In fact, I recall you saying it made you ill just thinking about him sitting in Dumbledore's chair."

"True, but…"

"But what? Afraid we might get expelled?" Ron said impatiently. Harry gazed at him for a moment.

"Good point," Harry said. "Let's do it. But you get the job of leaving Hermione our Last Will and Testament."

"I've already got one written somewhere. I wrote it after last year," Ron admitted.

No one was in the Great Hall, but the two of them ran down it; partially afraid of getting caught, but even more afraid they wouldn't get away with the deed. There was something emotionally satisfying to Harry about being able to deny Snape any privilege at all of his ill-gotten office, despite being such a tiny fraction of what Harry would consider appropriate justice. Still, even being able to meld together two splinters of glass of the millions that existed in Harry's shattered heart did a lot to improve his outlook on their situation. So, with little fanfare, the two of them chucked the Headmaster's chair onto the door and hurried it outside, adrenalin pumping as they raced past the others gathered there and right to the feet of the Carol Trolls, who paused their song as they were momentarily aback by what was laying on top of the pile.

"Dis is wot I call a 't'rone for a Troll King!" the largest one said, picking it up and trying it out. "Youz others get the rest back, I carry dis one myself."

"Harry!" Hermione said, her eyes widening as Ron proceeded to explain to them what the other items were supposed to be and were readily accepted by the eager trolls. "There's no way you got that checked off by a Professor!"

"Oops, we must have forgot," Harry said cheerfully.

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Weasley!" They turned to see Professor McGonagall stammering behind them, her face whiter than the snow beneath them. "That's not…it's not…"

"It's a throne fit for the Troll King. At least it's more fit for him than the current Headmaster," Harry said viciously.

"That chair has seen the presence of several dozen Headmasters! How could you have done such a thing? What a horribly selfish and thoughtless act! I cannot even begin to express myself!" McGonagall began, still sputtering.

"Perhaps we can ask for it back?" Hermione suggested hurriedly. But just then there was a notably loud CRACK as one arm came off of the ornate chair.

"It OK," the troll said. "It roomier this way."

Ron was quite sure that McGonagall would have fainted dead away if the only one around to catch her hadn't been Argus Filch.

Flitwick quickly went over the scavenged goods then, going over each one with a fine tooth comb before handing them over. Never had Harry seen McGonagall quite as furious or as speechless as she was in that moment. Even Hermione, standing nearby, looked particularly unhappy. But Ron and Harry merely looked back defiantly, neither of them remotely regretting what had just occurred.

"Go to your rooms at once, and stay there until the Headmaster returns! You can be sure he'll be hearing about this!" she finally got out. "With everything going on, with the future of this school and countless lives on the line, the two of you have to revert to children when I am counting on you to act like adults!"

"He doesn't deserve the position…"

"It is not your place to say, Harry Potter!" she snapped, pointing. "Inside! Now! Before I truly lose my temper!"

"Glad she didn't 'truly' lose her temper then," Ron muttered in a low voice as they turned to head back to Gryffindor Tower.

"How could she of all people possibly say that? Why is she even still here helping him?" Harry wondered out loud. But to that, Ron had no answer, nor were there any easy ones to give him had he known the full truth of the matter.


	2. Chapter 2

II

Severus Snape had never looked quite healthy. His skin had always been sallow, his hair was as unkempt as his mannerisms, and the flash in his beady black eyes betrayed the strong will and quick temper. But now his hair was even more haggard, his face drawn with stress and exhaustion, his eyes had dulled by horrors both seen and committed, and his skin was so pale it was almost grey.

It was this Severus Snape that entered Hogwarts late that night, well after the trolls had gone. And although he could hardly miss the deep tracks, footprints, and even bits of leftover debris just outside the gate, he didn't give them a second glance as he hurried inside, intent on his destination. His retreat…his second hell…it was all the same thing really. Paintings scurried out of view as he strode up the stairs, and candles wavered as if they too quivered in his wake.

He burst into the study, the doors snapping shut behind him like a crack of thunder as he desperately fished out an onyx Pensieve and a white marble Pensieve from a hidden cabinet. In desperation and obvious anguish, Severus began to rip silver strands out of his head and toss them by the handfuls into the onyx basin. Blue fire ripped around the edge with every throw, but he paid it no mind/ His eyes closed to try shut out the pain as he finally slowed down and pulled the last of the strands out with great care, one by one, until the overfilled contents of the Pensieve rocked like waves ready to overtop a dam.

He leaned on the desk then, his head still swimming, unable to bear the burden that awaited him in the marble Pensieve. His stomach was reeling with nausea, his head still pulsing with anger, and his blurred vision had yet to clear.

Just then there was a soft knock, and a piercing rage traveled through him.

"Not done yet!" he shouted out furiously, then found he could not contain the physical effects of his actions anymore. Ignoring the sound of a painting's subject clearing his throat on a wall nearby him, Severus waved all the burners under his potion equipment to life and dashed into the bathroom to throw up.

Cautiously, Minerva McGonagall opened the door and peered in, noting in one quick glance the Pensieves, the bubbling potion equipment, and his absence. Her eyes then darted over to the wall where a painting of Albus Dumbledore, late Headmaster of Hogwarts, was making motions with his hands, both asking her in and pointing towards Snape's hasty retreat.

She sighed, both out of grief and out of helplessness, knowing she could do nothing about the situation but worry, and that she did very often. She slipped inside, dreading what she had to tell him, knowing it would do nothing but aggravate an already impossibly hopeless situation. She shut the doors firmly behind her and then cast a quick spell on them to keep anyone who may be standing behind it from listening in.

A few moments later Severus reappeared, looking even more exhausted than he had when he came in. He was not at all surprised to see Minerva standing there, but raised a hand in protest when she began to walk over.

"Don't say anything yet. I don't care if half the school collapsed while I was gone. Don't say a word," Severus said in a voice both commanding and pleading at the same time.

He dragged himself over to a bubbling phial, adding a few more touches to it before forcing it down. Minerva calmly stood there in silence as if perfectly content to do so until he was ready. But Severus hadn't missed her occasional side-glances and turned on his heels to glare at the Dumbledore painting.

"When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it! It's your fault we're in this position to begin with! Go back to sleep!" he snarled, ignoring the critical look in Albus' eyes as he covered the painting with a velvet drape.

He ran a hand through his greasy hair and stared at the marble Pensieve, his expression torn. Finally his shoulders slumped, for his temper was spent. Like a fish swimming through mud, he walked over to it and then gazed into it fixedly before beginning to pick memories out of the swirling mass. As he popped the Hogwarts memories back in his head, Minerva slowly relaxed. She went over at the tea service and carried it to the desk. By the time she had set it down, hot tea had appeared and something sweet and spicy had filled the side tray. Minerva poured them both a cup, and as Severus finished what he was doing and slid into his seat, she had it ready for him.

"You must have had a terribly rough night," she said quietly as he took it.

"Thank you for your sympathy. You can trade any time," he said sarcastically.

"You envy my fate no more than I envy yours," Minerva said quietly. "And until that time when my death means more than my living, I take on the work of two people here. I have my own double life, Severus."

"While I have but two half lives, neither desirable by any means," Severus said, gazing at the cup in his hand before setting it down untouched. "We could say, I suppose, that at least we're not dead yet, although I am not sure we wouldn't be better off," he said quietly, rubbing his head. "In fact, I believe we lost another staff member tonight."

"Good God, no! Who this time?" Minerva said with horror, Severus gesturing to the onyx Pensieve as if offering her the opportunity to look. Minerva, however, had no intention of going anywhere near the evil thing. Even from the distance, she could see images of flames and chaos pressing to the surface.

"It seems that Irma Pince had the misfortune of visiting her sister Terra this evening," Severus said quietly, getting up and gazing into the depths of the onyx Pensieve, very careful not to touch it.

"But I thought Terra Pince was in hiding!" Minerva said.

"Unfortunately for the Pinces, the Dark Lord was able to find the Daily Prophet reporter she had given the list of Death Eater names to first. She, in turn, foolishly told him about her cottage in Haven's Bluff, which, thanks to his Death Eaters, has now been erased from the map except for a few scorched farms," he murmured, watching the images pass with a haunted look on his claylike face. "It was not the only town to be attacked tonight, but I was able to find a way to get word to Pomona Sprout before they got to her…nothing is left of her house or her gardens, or Hooch's for that matter."

"I'm glad she went to her daughter's then," Minerva said, still visibly shaken. "What a horrible thing to happen on Christmas Eve!"

"There is no such thing as Christmas anymore, Minerva," Severus said stonily. "It is just another day of the year that Voldemort can take advantage of. Even now Dementors are floating through the halls of St. Mungo's, and that is only the tip of this misery. There is no mercy…not for me, not for you, not for anyone, so let's not label today or tomorrow as different than any other day. It doesn't matter anymore."

"It may not matter to you, Severus," Minerva said. "But it does still matter to me, as it does to a lot of other people, especially the children. We can't possibly give in to all this darkness around us…at least Christmas provides us with some feeling of…of hope…"

"It's a fantasy, Minerva!" Severus said with a raised voice. "To believe otherwise would be a foolish and dangerous thing that creates a false sense of hope! We cannot afford that!"

"And I say we cannot afford not to have it!" Minerva said fiercely. "I realize you may have been blinded by what horrors you've had to witness under that hood, but I have not lost sight to why we are here, Severus. We are administrators of the greatest wizard school in the world and we are here for the children…the future of our kind…"

"There is no future!" Severus shouted. "And as far as I'm concerned, there is no Christmas either!"

Just then there was a knock at the door and they both looked at it in surprise. Suddenly Minerva's eyes widened.

"Goodness gracious, I forgot about Potter and Weasley!" Minerva said.

"What about Potter and Weasley?" Severus demanded as she hurried over.

"Severus, please, try to remember you are back at Hogwarts…don't overreact," Minerva advised, and Severus squinted suspiciously. "I suppose we had better get this over with."

"Why do I have the feeling I don't need this right now?" Severus growled, hastily putting the Pensieves away. Minerva did her best to pull her demeanor together, despite the fact that she knew how disastrous this consult was going to be.

"Getting impatient for sentencing, are we?" Minerva said coolly to the two seventh years waiting behind the door. "You both are really much to old for this sort of thing," she muttered again as she let them in.

Severus stood behind the desk, eying the two of them dangerously, while Ron and Harry seemed aloof to their position at best. Severus didn't miss the spark of hatred in Harry's eyes, matching it with a look of his own.

"What now, McGonagall?" he asked, despite not wanting to hear it. Harry glanced at Ron thoughtfully, wondering what the Professors had been talking about so long if she hadn't gotten around to mentioning them yet.

"Well, I suppose I should first tell you that we had a chorus of Carol Trolls descend on the gates today…"

"I gathered as much from the state of the courtyard. I suppose you paid them off instead of getting rid of them…"

"It is Christmas Eve, Headmaster," McGonagall said fervently. "It can't hurt to be just a bit charitable, even in these times…"  
"Pay them off this year, and they'll just come back the next year," Severus interrupted.

"Assuming there is a next year," Ron murmured.

"Silence," Severus growled. "Go on, Minerva."

"Well, most of the staff is gone, as you know, so I had the Head Girl arrange for students to help gather the items, provided that they check all their items with a staff member first before handing them out. But these two decided to take it upon themselves to rush something of intense school value into their hands," Minerva explained, watching Severus' expression grow in alarm. "Nothing directly magical, but very irreplaceable…"

"What, Minerva?"

"The Headmaster's chair at the high table in the Great Hall," Minerva admitted reluctantly. Severus' head went back as if he had been slapped, and stared at the two with mixed shock and fury.

"Get it back! Why are you standing here, go get it back!"

"The trolls already broke it, Professor," Minerva said quietly, and Severus turned even greyer, making him look almost like a walking corpse.

"How could you do this?" he asked at last, his knuckles whitening. "How could you, even you, Potter, do such an inexcusable, tactless, positively deplorable act as stripping away an artifact that is as nearly as old as the school itself? You cannot, you possibly could not realize just how much history that chair has seen if you saw fit to cast it away as if it meant nothing!"

"It was much easier than I expected, actually. Besides, it didn't mean anything anymore," Harry said defiantly.

"IT WAS DUMBLEDORE'S CHAIR!" Severus shouted at the top of his lungs.

"EXACTLY WHY YOU DON'T DESERVE IT! MURDERER!" Harry shouted back. Immediately, Severus raised his hand as if to hit him and Minerva quickly jumped between them.

"Severus no, please no, you can't do it! Don't make me get involved!" Minerva pleaded.

"Why are you sticking up for him? I know you believe me! You can't possibly not know the truth about what he did!" Harry demanded, but Minerva simply grabbed the wand that had found way into Harry's hand.

"Stop this at once! You are already in enough trouble without pulling wands on staff members!" She said, grabbing Ron's as well. Harry stared at her with a look of complete betrayal. He had always believed that she at least had been on their side, ever since it made the paper that she was threatening to quite if Severus didn't name Hermione Head Girl. But her suddenly backing Severus up now made very little sense to him. "Professor, please! Control yourself!"

"What I wouldn't do to expel the both of you right now," Severus said, gritting his teeth.

"Why don't you then? Or why don't you just kill us outright? It wouldn't be the first time you killed someone in this school," Harry challenged him. But Severus' anger was now so intense it turned disquieting, and a horribly wrong smile suddenly appeared on his face.

"Something I think you had best keep in mind," he said icily. "You have stolen school property that cannot be replaced, disgraced yourselves and your house, and you will pay for it with your own hands and more," he swore, glancing at Minerva who was gazing at him warily. "I want every last point that Gryffindor has earned this year dumped out, I don't care how much that is. You both are also suspended from any activities outside of class, including being on the Quidditch team for the rest of you last year. And since you have no respect for other people's property, I don't think any should be offered to yours. Any gifts scheduled to arrive to you in the morning are hereby confiscated until the end of the year…"

"What?" they both said with dropped jaws.

"And for detention, you will get up first thing in the morning and will dust, clean, and polish every single chair in this school from the lowest dungeon to the highest tower and will not be released until it is done!" Severus snarled.

"Tomorrow's Christmas!" Ron protested.

"Not for you! In fact, I'm done with this whole Christmas business for the entire school! Minerva, I want the Elves to take down every single decoration and plan a sensible menu for tomorrow. Christmas is officially cancelled!" he shouted at them. "Now get out of my office! Everyone!"

Hurriedly, Minerva ushered them out, following close behind as the doors shut tight behind them.

"Christmas is cancelled? Who does he think he is?" Ron demanded.

"He is the Headmaster of this school, Mr. Weasley," Minerva said.

"But he confessed just now, Professor! You heard him yourself, he admitted he had killed someone…"

"I heard, Mr. Potter," Minerva said sternly. "Now, you had best both get some rest, you have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

"You don't really expect us to actually try carrying out that insane punishment? Because I'm not going to do it," Harry said.

"Please, Potter, now is not the time to revolt! I suggest you do as your told for now…I'll try and get you both a healthy break in the afternoon to relax and be with your friends, but the Headmaster is more than within his rights considering what you've done…"

"Considering what we've done? What about what he's done?"

"There's more going on than you know, Potter, or would even believe," Minerva snapped. "Now, there will be no more arguments, go back to your rooms at once!"

"I thought you were on our side…and Dumbledore's," Harry challenged her.

"I'm on the school's side, Mr. Potter, and right now you're not behaving in the school's best interests. Now, I refuse to humor this argument anymore. Good night," she said in a tone that indicated just how final things were.

"Come on, Harry," Ron murmured when Harry didn't move at first, his eyes still focused on Minerva.

"Fine," Harry said at last, turning and joining him. "I think I've given up trying to figure out who my friends are these days," he added as they went up the hall.

"You know at least two," Ron assured him, while Minerva gazed after them, looking a bit lost. Finally she pulled herself together and headed down to the kitchen to speak with the House Elves.


	3. Chapter 3

III

Severus stood near the door and seethed for quite some time before finally calming down, glancing over at his desk. His tea was cold, of course, so he had to make another, knowing that the potion he had put in it to ease his mind would not work properly unless it was warm. He watched the bubbling beakers, attempting to clear his head of the pulsing pressure overwhelming it. When it finished he once again put the brew into his cup and poured the tea overtop of it and then sank down into his chair with a sigh. His eyes blurred slightly as he glanced at a gold-plated water clock. Realizing it was even later than he had thought, he debated whether or not to add a punishment for being in the halls after curfew to the list of charges against Potter and Weasley. But as he was debating a way to further punish them, he heard a distinct whisper travel through the room.

_Severus Snape._

His eyes went over to the fireplace, which right now was down to embers. He then glanced around the room once before cautiously pulling up his sleeve, but the tattoo on his arm hadn't moved. Relaxing slightly, Severus readjusted his robes and turned back to his tea.

_Severus Snape._

Once might have been his imagination, but now Severus was alert. He had just moved to set his tea down on the desk and take out his wand when he happened to look into the steaming liquid. There, before his eyes, the steam seemed to form into the figure of a haggard dog, which called out his name again.

_Severus Snape!_

Severus leapt out of his chair, and with a lightning fast movement he took out his wand and pointed it at the cup. But the steam had evaporated, leaving nothing but the creamy liquid…nothing but a typical cup of tea. He stood there with his wand still pointed for fifteen minutes, perhaps more, but nothing happened. Not a painting had stirred from its place, not a candle flickered to indicate anything was amiss, so reluctantly, Severus put his wand back up his sleeve.

He turned to his small lab then and opened up all the ingredients, sniffing each one experimentally or pressing it between his fingers to make sure none of them had gone bad. Was he just getting paranoid? Perhaps it was echoes of memories that he had so forcibly removed. Yes, that would make sense, he reasoned…there were always bits of memory one didn't lose; only the fine details were lost in the Pensieve…dangerous echoes. Were he to let even one of those show under the watchful eyes of the Dark Lord, it would most assuredly cost him his life and those he protected.

Severus chided himself for his carelessness. He had gotten too exhausted, he decided, and most likely just needed to meditate and get some rest. Pushing the suspicious tea aside, he secured the study and headed into his private rooms, debating whether to find some evening clothes or dispense with the bother and sleep in what he was wearing.

_Severus Snape._

The fire in the fireplace had surged to life, so with wand in hand once more he went over to it with a frown, waiting for a face to appear.

None came.

With a flick of the wrist, he snuffed it completely out, and the room immediately went cold, as if none of the heat from the fire had dared to linger. There was a hiss of protest, and Severus turned to the bed to see a very large lizard lying there, protesting the sudden change of temperature. That much, at least, was normal.

"Get off, Rasputin," Severus said to his familiar. "Why don't you go lurk around? There is something unwholesome going on."

"The only thing unwholesome in here is you, _Snivellus_," said a voice from right behind him. Severus twirled around with his wand pointed at the direction of the voice, but then his eyes went wide with surprise when he found himself staring at the phantom of Sirius Black. "Why, Snape, you look almost like you have seen a ghost or something," he added wryly.

"You have no ghost," Severus said flatly. "You fell into oblivion."

"Tell me something I don't know!" Sirius said. "And whose brilliant idea was it to put something like _that _down in the Ministry with only a rope to protect it, instead of some blasted way to keep people from falling into it? Hell, even I don't believe I'm dead."

Severus stared at him.

"But you're a ghost."

"Ironic, isn't it?" Sirius said dryly.

"I think it's more likely that I simply botched my potion," Severus decided.

"Severus, you've never botched a potion in your life," Sirius sighed.

"You are a figment of my imagination then."

"And you picked me? I'm very flattered," Sirius said mockingly.

"If you don't leave, I will have you exorcised," Severus threatened, sitting on his bed.

"Oooo, go right ahead, _Headmaster_," Sirius said. "It's not like I want to be here so much as I have to be."

"If you are waiting for me to ask why you are here, you are going to be waiting a very long time, because I really don't care," Severus said.

"I'm not leaving until you hear me out, Severus."

"I can't hear you when you can't possibly exist."

"Just pretend that I do, for the sake of argument," Sirius said dryly.

"No, thank you. I think I'm going to bed," Severus said. But when he turned down the covers, Sirius floated up through his bed at an alarming speed and began making frightening faces at him. Severus stared at him. "Please. Next to the Bloody Baron, you look like Moaning Myrtle."

"Well she can be scary at times," Sirius joked, but then raised his hand when Severus tried to lay down again. "Severus Snape, I swear if you don't listen to me, I will stay around and taunt you, and if that doesn't work, I'll get Peeves, and if that doesn't work, I'll invite every ghost in this castle up for a party."

"Fine! Say what's on your mind and then go! It's not like I'm going to listen."

"Yes, I realize that," Sirius said, floating back through the bed and standing beside it. "First of all, don't think in any way, shape, or form, that I'm here for your sake."

"Perish the thought," Severus said dryly.

"I am here," Sirius continued. "To make sure you don't make Harry's last Christmas as a student here a living nightmare."

"Oh, bugger off," Severus said in annoyance. "I really am going to go through my potion ingredients in the morning."

"If I am your manifestation, Severus, I am a manifestation of guilt," Sirius pointed out.

"I feel no guilt or regrets. Harry got what he deserved," Severus said.

"Did he deserve to have his parents murdered? To have his fate sealed before he could barely walk?" Sirius barked at him angrily, pulling his covers away. "Does he deserve to be put in the position he is now as the people he cares about most get picked off like flies?"

"In your case, you got picked off like a maggot," Severus said.

"God, what I wouldn't do to haunt you the rest of your life," Sirius snarled. "As it is, I can only haunt you tonight, but I swear if you don't stop punishing Harry for your own personal position, your death is going to be even more pathetic than mine!"

"I did not punish him for my position!" Severus shouted.

"You've been punishing him for your position since he got to Hogwarts, and you know it!" Sirius barked. "And somehow, we're going to make you see it! Things are dark enough without you adding your own callus sniveling opinions into this mix. You will see the error of your ways before the morning comes, I swear it!"

"Good luck. I'm going to sleep," Severus said, fumbling in his end table and pulling out a Sleeping Potion. "A nice, dreamless sleep for a full eight to ten hours. And when I wake up, I have little doubt that your stupid, potion-induced manifestation will be long gone."

"How I hate you," Sirius said as Severus defiantly took the potion and pulled his covers over his head. "And perhaps you won't see me again tonight, Severus Snape, but you will see others. Hopefully they'll have a bit better luck with you than I have." But his words were lost, for Severus was already fast asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

IV

There had been only one thing that Sirius Black's ghost had said that Severus actually believed; he had never botched a potion in his life.

So it came to a very shocking surprise to him when just over an hour later at the stroke of midnight that he awoke from his perfectly brewed Sleeping Potion to someone attempting to tickle him awake.

That surprise soon set off a cry of complete alarm when he opened his eyes and saw who it was. As he attempted to scramble for his wand, he ended up falling out of bed, the covers wrapped around him falling in a pile on top of him. He frantically broke free of them and peered out suspiciously, wand still in hand.

"Dumbledore," he murmured at last, staring in disbelief at the ghost in front of him.

"You were expecting Father Christmas?" Dumbledore asked with a smile. There was such a mischievous look in his eyes that there could be hardly any doubt of who he was.

"You are dead," Severus stated warily.

"Yes, thank you, Severus. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't entirely sure you were going to do it there for a moment, your private vow to me or not, You did the right thing, Severus," Albus said somberly. "But I'm not here to talk about that, or even how you are handling our ultimate plan. No, this is much more personal. Care for a hand up?"

Cautiously, Severus put his hand out and Dumbledore took it, pulling him to his feet. Severus stared at the hand in his with a frown.

"How exactly are you doing that?" Severus demanded.

"Oh, I'm not doing anything, Severus, you are. You're astral projecting," Dumbledore explained calmly. Severus turned around to look at the lump of covers on the floor, then noticed a part of his foot sticking out of it. "May I have my hand back? You really only need to hold onto the sleeve of my robe."

"Sleeve?"

"Yes, we're going on a little outing to Christmases past," Dumbledore said cheerfully. Severus gave him a dirty look. "Yes, yes, I know it's cliché, and I admit that when Sirius came and told me he wanted to teach you a lesson I was going to decline, but then…well, I'm afraid he is right in a way, so be a good sport and humor me. After all, you did kill me, you owe me that much."

"Only because you ordered me to," Severus snapped.

"And now I'm ordering you to play along," Dumbledore said with a smile.

Had Severus thought much longer about it, he could have simply reasoned that the dead could not order the living about in such a way. But this was, after all, Dumbledore doing the ordering, and now that he was dead, he probably knew a great deal more about certain things going on than Severus did. Perhaps if he went along he could get some real answers.

Severus took his sleeve, and Dumbledore quickly pulled him into the fireplace as if they were taking the floo to another destination. Instead…he simply walked through the fireplace itself, and Severus found himself stepping from his cozy, decorous bedroom to the cozy, Slytherin dorm room he had slept in as a student.

There was only one person in the room…one that Severus immediately recognized as himself; a black mop-headed youth who had fallen asleep on his schoolbooks at the desk in front of his bed with a golden-belled clock clutched in his left hand.

"I suppose you know where we are?" Dumbledore asked.

"My first Christmas here," Severus said with a shrug. "Although I hardly see any point in visiting it."

"You were so small then, and so serious," Dumbledore remembered with a smile, but Severus didn't say anything. "Not very many stayed at the school that Christmas, as I recall."

"Not many Slytherin did, at any rate," Severus murmured. "I was the only one in my year to still be there on Christmas Eve, not that I cared much." Dumbledore decided not to comment, waiting for Severus to continue despite the fact that it was quite obvious Severus didn't want to offer any more.

Just then there was a large flutter of Owls by the window. Young Severus woke up and looked over at them attentively for a moment before glancing at the clock…just after midnight. Setting it down, he grabbed his robe and crept to the door, peering out cautiously before working his way out to a brilliant Christmas tree trimmed with satin green bows and silver-dipped candles in the center of the common room.

By the time Dumbledore and Severus stepped through the wall, the young one was already searching through the presents, digging through them all before sitting up with a expression of disappointment on his face. He then began to go through his stack more carefully.

"For a boy with such a healthy assortment of parcels, he doesn't look very happy, does he?" Dumbledore observed.

"I had foolishly convinced myself that year that if my mother had 'disappeared' of her own free will that she might have sent me something," Severus said.

"Sounds like a reasonable hope to me," Dumbledore said.

"Of course, I then began to wonder after the fact if perhaps she just didn't want anything to do with me," Severus said.

"Now, I'm sure you know now that's not the case, Severus. Your mother had been out of sorts ever since the divorce years before this. But she always stuck up for you…as I recall, I had quite a number of conversations with her when your father protested your going to Hogwarts."

"He wanted me to go to a 'normal' school. He thought Hogwarts was too dangerous. He was afraid of what was going on in our world and what sort of trouble I might get into without him to keep a tight hand on my collar," Severus said with obvious annoyance, but then slumped. "Perhaps in a way he was right."

"Nonsense, Severus. It's never right to ask a person to go against their own nature like that," Dumbledore said. "You were very advanced in magic even before you got to Hogwarts…and I have a confession to make, Severus. I long guessed why you had first decided to prematurely stick your nose in those books. There was nothing you could have done, you know, to save their marriage. In many ways, it was over before it even got started, with all the family pressure and all."

"Both families were unhappy about it, not just the Prince's," Severus said in an almost defensive tone.

"I never meant to imply that any one family was at fault," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Well, it hardly matters anymore…wait…don't open that one!" Severus suddenly shouted at himself.

"He can't hear you, Severus," Dumbledore said, as the boy looked over a present with no name on the "from".

A glimmer of intense hope crossed young Severus' face as he opened it, but from the moment he pulled back the paper, a blast of colored smoke burst out, causing him to cough and choke. Suddenly the cough sounded strange, animal-like. It was a bray, Dumbledore decided, and as the smoke cleared he was proven right as Severus' head had been transformed to that of a donkey.

Young Severus' human hands went to his head, feeling around and then pulling his elongated ears. He let out an even louder bray as he ran to the mirror and stared at what had been done to him, intent on ramming his fist through it.

"Rather sloppy job, transfiguring only the head and all," Dumbledore mused.

"What do you expect from first years?" The Severus standing next to him snapped angrily. Dumbledore studied him thoughtfully, so intent on his reactions that he didn't miss when Severus' face became ghostlike, just a second after footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs.

"What in devil's name is going on down here?" called out a platinum-haired seventh year. He took one look at Severus and then rolled his eyes. "Oh, not again! Stand still, Snape, and stop acting like an ass! _Reparatus Asinus!" _he intoned, a flashing coming out of his wand. A final bray from Severus turned into a wail, which stopped short when he realized his face felt normal again. "I swear, Snape! You really work hard to give us all a bad name, don't you?" he said with distaste, walking over. "It was that Potter boy, again, wasn't it? How did it happen?"

Glumly, the young Severus handed over the package and the older boy rolled his eyes again.

"You are so damned gullible, Snape! Haven't you any pride at all, or has that thin blood of yours robbed you of that as well?" he taunted.

"Of course I have pride!" Young Severus snapped.

"Then stop disgracing the Slytherin name and allowing those Gryffindors to constantly walk over you! It's high time you taught Potter a lesson, one that will convince him not to even attempt to bother you again."

"I would, if it were just him, Lucius," Severus said defensively. "But anytime I try to confront him, those friends of his come to back him up."

"I see," Lucius said, discriminately picking up one of his gifts, and then reading the giver, tossing it back under the tree. "And would Sirius be one of those friends?" Severus glanced up at him, but didn't say anything. Lucius smiled thinly, then nodded. "It's always wise to consider whose family we're talking about before raising an opinion, isn't it? Yes, well, say what you like about him. He's already been disowned by several members of his family for being sorted into Gryffindor house and consorting with mudbloods. You at least had more sense than that, and besides your mother's family goes back farther than practically anyone's…but mine of course," he added with a curled lip. "They shouldn't dare mock you, Severus. It's time we turned this situation around."

"We?" Severus asked slowly.

"Yes, I think for the sake of this house's name, I'll help you get past this little problem of yours and onto your rightful path. Your mother has already taught you much, that I can tell from your marks, but it takes more than wit to be a good Slytherin. It's time you made them play by our rules. I'm prepared to teach you a spell or two that none of them, even Potter, could possibly know. As for Sirius, I'll have Narcissa take care of that issue. So, are you prepared to finally earn the name of Slytherin, and perhaps to wipe the egg off the name of Prince as well?"

"More than ready," Severus agreed.

"Good," Lucius said, the thin smile still plastered on his face. "But first, I was wondering…I do have a question or two about your father."

"Ask away," Severus shrugged. "But I don't know what he has to do with anything important."

"Oh, no of course not, just for curiosity's sake," Lucius said smoothly. But just then there was a light knock on the door, and Lucius looked up with obvious annoyance to see another seventh year Slytherin in the doorway.

"Sorry to disturb you, Head Boy," he said.

"What is it, Igor?" Lucius said impatiently.

"I've been sent to ask Snape to pack a few things. His sister is downstairs…"

"Stepsister," Severus automatically corrected.

"Well, apparently you're going home after all, so I would get moving if I were you."

"I don't want to go home," Severus complained. "If I go home, how do I know I'll be coming back?"

"I'm just a messenger, I'm not here to argue. Take it up with the Professors if you like," Igor growled, slamming the door behind him.

"Don't worry, Severus, you'll be back," Lucius assured him. "Even if I have to ask some friends of mine to bring you back, you'll be back. He can't keep you from coming here, you know. It's your birthright."

"Yes, my birthright," Severus repeated in agreement, then grinned, gathering up his gifts in hand and heading to his room. Lucius sat back in his chair then, and when he was certain no one was left in the room, got out his cigarette holder for a smoke.

"Well," said Albus Dumbledore. "That does explain quite a lot, doesn't it? And, of course, you did return to Hogwarts without incident that first year."

"Perhaps, but I do recall a letter from an Owl that arrived in my father's hand that turned his knuckles white," Severus said. Dumbledore gazed at him thoughtfully.

"You never told me about that," Dumbledore said.

"I hardly needed to considering what happened to him a few years later," Severus said crisply.

"Yes," Dumbledore said somberly. "I recall that day very clearly. I had you come up to my office to tell you the news that he was dead. You were not surprised. Not even a little." Severus didn't say anything, gazing at his young self still packing his things. "You never even asked what happened to your sister."

"She wasn't there at the time, whisked out of harm's way by one Muggle relative or another, I imagine," Severus shrugged. "We were close once, when we were small, I suppose. But by then I didn't consider them my family any more."

"No, you had a new family who nearly cost you your life, and your soul," Dumbledore said quietly.

"Please tell me we're not going to go over that conversation again," Severus pleaded.

"No, that was not at Christmas, nor do I think it's really necessary to tell you of that night when I know you've thought about it every day since," Dumbledore said. "Come, let us go explore another day." Severus reluctantly touched Dumbledore's outstretched sleeve and they were off once more.


	5. Chapter 5

V

Severus only had to blink twice before he found himself in a Great Hall that was even more crowded than usual. Puzzled, he looked around at who was present that night, then saw the dais had been cleared of its table and a popular band set up there.

"Ah, yes, I recognize this," Dumbledore smiled, glancing around. "Do you know when we are, Severus?"

"Holiday Ball, during the Tri-wizard Tournament," Severus murmured.

"Why do you suppose we're here?" Dumbledore asked.

"You don't know?" Severus asked.

"Not entirely, Severus. I simply wanted to bring you to a happier Christmas memory, but it doesn't seem like you have any! At least, everyone else seems to be having a good time…well, nearly everyone," he amended, glancing over to where Ron and Harry were standing with their nonplussed dates near the door. "But you seem to be no more enjoying yourself than they are," he said, pointing to where Severus was standing near the refreshment table, glaring at anyone who came near him.

"Of course not," Severus snapped. "How could I with everything that was going on that year? I was worried about student safety, and your attempting to hire Moody as a teacher turned out to be disastrous…"

"I assure you, I had no more control over that Crouch business than you had, Severus…"

"And on top of that, my potion stores kept getting raided. I was in no mood to celebrate anything."

"I understand, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly. "I can hardly blame you at all, can I? But what is this? Why, Severus, your other self has an expression that is quite un-Snapelike," he said with open interest, then turned to see that the Severus behind him had acquired a similar expression as a woman in a burgundy velvet dress came over to stand by him, pouring herself some punch. She had auburn hair, Irish eyes, and a small pointed English nose, despite the fact she wore a blue Beauxbatons pin on her collar. "Ah, that's Alice's daughter, isn't it? Mademoiselle Craw, a potion's assistant at Beauxbatons…she had to leave early, I recall, because of all of that."

"Yes, her mother came up missing," Severus sighed. "Her father was a former Death Eater who fled the country…not far enough, it seems."

"I now wish I had taken more time to chat with her during their visit here," Dumbledore mused somberly. "Ah, but you spent some time with her, didn't you?"

"She simply had some questions about potion theory which I consulted her on," Severus snapped.

"No need to get defensive. I was only asking," Dumbledore said calmly, walking closer to the table.

"Lovely evening, isn't it?" Jennifer asked Severus with a grin. "They should be calling the first dance in a moment. Aren't you going to go over to watch the champions?"

"I hardly need to go over there to tell they're going to trip over each other's feet," Severus said. Jennifer grinned at him.

"I suppose not, but still I don't envy them the audience. I'd be tripping over my feet too," Jennifer said. "Of course, I never was good at that sort of thing. Father was always more concerned about my magic skills than 'getting along' with anyone," she sighed. "It's hard not to wonder what I might have missed if I had grown up in a normal family."

"You may not have missed as much as you think. 'Normal' is highly overrated," Severus said in a low voice. But just then, the living Dumbledore gestured to Severus and he sighed. "Looks as if I have to go up there whether I want to or not."

"It won't hurt you to be nice for one night, you know," Jennifer teased. "Come on, if we must we must."

"Why, Severus!" the ghost of Dumbledore said with surprise. "I do believe that young lady is flirting with you!"

"Oh, nonsense. She was simply being polite," Severus said grumpily. "Dumbledore, there's nothing here of interest. Can we leave?"

"I disagree, Severus. I for one am quite interested," Dumbledore said. "Now, don't look at me like that. This entire exchange missed me that night, for I was busy playing good-will ambassador. It's just as well, I suppose. Had I noticed it, I may have been tempted to get involved," he said mischievously. Severus glared at him, reluctantly following him around the edge of the crowd as the champions and their dates went to the dance floor.

The younger Severus gazed over the procession with a look of complete boredom, while beside him, the living Dumbledore looked on with an enigmatic smile. Nearby stood Madame Maxime, while just behind her stood Jennifer, who seemed lost in her own thoughts. They were broken when Dumbledore made a gesture towards Maxime, and Jennifer watched with surprise as they went out onto the dance floor, followed along by a number of other staff members, the students joining timidly after that. Severus, however, stood with his arms folded, shaking his head at those who had gone out there.

"Don't you dance, Severus?" Jennifer asked after standing beside him a moment, watching his glaring expression.

"I'm hardly going to make any sort of spectacle out of myself in front of all those students," Severus said flatly.

"It isn't like they're paying attention to anyone but themselves…well, I suppose Professor Dumbledore dancing with Olympe requires a look," Jennifer grinned. "But I suppose I don't blame you. I'm not much of a dancer myself, that's why I wear Ultra-lites. Saves me from embarrassing myself."

"Better just to not go out at all," Severus said firmly. Jennifer nodded slowly.

"I quite agree," Jennifer said.

As the two stood there quietly watching, the ghost of Dumbledore shook his head at them. Beside him, Severus attempted to ignore it, his eyes instead on Igor Karkoroff slipping away from the crowd and bowing to Jennifer with a click of his heels.

"Professor Snape, if you don't mind, I would like to steal your companion for a dance," Igor said graciously.

"It is for her to decide," Severus shrugged indifferently. Jennifer glanced over at him unsurely for a moment, but finally took Igor's offered hand, letting him lead her to the dance floor. Severus' eyes immediately flicked over at them, but he neither moved nor seemed inclined to do anything but stand there.

"Severus!" the ghost of Dumbledore said with exasperation. "Why ever didn't you ask Jennifer to dance with you?"

"I am hardly going to go out there and make a fool out of myself. You looked ridiculous enough out there," Severus said, folding his arms defensively. "Besides, she's not canon. People would have talked."

"Severus, if there is one thing I have learned from this particular visit is that you seem to intentionally miss opportunities to have an enjoyable time. I think you have been miserable for so long that you have come to like it too much! Would it have been such a crime for you to have one Christmas you didn't feel was a complete waste? It's really no wonder that you are so down on the holiday, but perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if you weren't always so down on yourself," Dumbledore sighed.

"I hardly deserve a pleasant evening of any sort, after all the misery I've caused in my life," Severus said.

"You know, Severus, I know it's in your nature to be judgmental. But if you simply stopped judging yourself by your failures and started judging yourself by what you've done right, I doubt we'd even be having this conversation at all," Dumbledore said sternly.

"And yet, in a way I am glad to be having any sort of conversation with you," Severus said, feeling a strange sensation come over him, like a dream ready to slip away. "We may have saved Draco and my identity with your death, Dumbledore, but I fear time has shown it wasn't worth the price."

"I think time still has a lot to tell, Severus," Dumbledore said as he began to fade. "But what lies ahead for you will depend quite a bit on whether or not you allow yourself some self respect, for only then will you truly be able to respect anyone else."

"Wait…Dumbledore don't leave yet! I still have much to ask you…like how to complete the next phase of this plan without taking Minerva's life as well…"

"Trust yourself, Severus," Dumbledore's voice echoed in Severus' mind even as he faded completely away. "Heaven knows I always trusted you."


	6. Chapter 6

VI

Severus would later recall hearing the clock chime one, but he did not stir from his bed until he was abruptly grabbed by the arm and tossed across his room, causing him to look around wide-eyed in surprise. Shock was replaced by recognition, and he let out a loud groan.

"Oh, no. Anyone but you," Severus grumbled.

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing myself," said the ghost of James Potter.

"Go away, you don't exist. You don't have a ghost," Severus said, crawling back to his bed. But James put a foot on his hand to stop him. "Get off of me!"

"You're not getting past me that easy, Snape. I have a few bones to pick with you, and none of them mine," James said. "The only ghost there is of me is the one in your head, of course, but you're going to answer to me anyhow. After Sirius told me what happened, there was no way I was going to sit back and watch you torture my son any more. What's wrong, Severus, he growing up too much like me to suit you?"

"For starters, yes," Severus snarled, wrenching his hand away. "I may have humored Dumbledore, but if you think for one second I am going to humor you…"  
"Oh, I knew you wouldn't," James said, pulling him to his feet. "But I'm not giving you any choice in the matter."

"And just how do you intend to make me?" Severus asked, grabbing his wand and clutching it in his hand.

"You idiot, do you really think that that's going to work on a ghost?"

"I plan to exorcise you," Severus said with a sneer.

"And I plan to take you out to get some exercise," James said back, grabbing his arm. "The present is harsh, but like it or not, you are going to see it," he swore, and took a step forward, dragging Severus along with a yank.

Once again, Severus found himself in the Great Hall, but this time it was quiet and barren. No decorations remained on the wall, and even the ceiling showed a rather dull, grey sky. Even the fireplaces were down to embers, and in the dim winter light it looked rather glum. Tables had been pushed back to the walls, while the chairs and benches had been dragged to the center of the room where Ron and Harry sat with a bucket of supplies and two buckets of water, although neither of them seemed very enthusiastic about their tasks.

"How's your forehead?" Ron asked.

"Better. It's finally letting up," Harry said, touching the scar. "Not that it doesn't hurt all the time these days. Anyhow, I think it's your turn. Or do I win?"

"Wait, I have another one," Ron said, pausing what he was doing. "There was the year we went down to empty our stockings and Fred had managed to sneak out in the middle of the night and turn all my candy into spiders."

"Why do all of your worst Christmases have to do with spiders?" Harry protested.

"Why do your worst Christmases all have to do with coat hangers for presents?" Ron challenged him.

"No, no…I think the year I got a single glove of Dudley's that had holes all the way through it was worse," Harry decided.

"Worse than this one as well?" Ron asked.

"Oh yeah," Harry nodded. "Because back then when I had a rotten Christmas, I didn't have anyone I could complain to about it."

"Funny, I was just thinking that this one was better because there's no one around who would mock me about it," Ron chuckled.

"I can see how that would be a plus," Harry agreed.

"What about the Tri-wizard Tournament dance? That was worse," Ron offered.

"Yeah, definitely worse," Harry nodded with a grin, drying off the chair he was working on before grabbing the polish. "I hope there isn't anything perishable in our presents."

"Probably. You know how Ginny likes to bake these days. They'll all be growing fuzz by the time we get them," Ron said glumly.

"Think it'll improve them?" Harry joked, getting Ron to grin again. But Ron's expression soon faded into a thoughtful look.

"Harry, I know this is rather personal, but I've been wondering…after all this is over and you-know-who is, well, you know, dead…do you think you're going to pick things back up with Ginny?" Ron asked. Harry's face fell, and he gazed at the wood grain for a long time.

"I don't like thinking that far ahead, Ron. So many things could go wrong before that," Harry said quietly.

"Right, I understand that, but still, how can you not try to think past this? I think I'd go insane if I didn't say to myself, 'When all of this is over…' on a regular basis."

"I suppose yours involves Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Well, I can't say we haven't talked about it," Ron admitted, slightly embarrassed. Harry simply smiled at him, but went back to his polishing. "With one concession. If we do get married, it's with the understanding that I only want one kid."

"One? Just one?" Harry grinned.

"Yeah," Ron nodded. "No hand-me downs. He or she is going to have the best."

"Well, if you had a girl and a boy, there still wouldn't be any hand-me-downs, Ron."

"Is that what you want? A boy and a girl?"

"At least that," Harry nodded and Ron smacked his hands together and pointed at him.

"Aha! So you have thought about it!" Ron said triumphantly.

"Well, perhaps I have, but I don't like to. There's still so much that would have to happen…and that's making the assumption I'm even going to survive this."

"Of course you will, Harry," Ron said.

"Still, to try and think about Voldemort being dead-dead…not partially dead or dead but will come back later dead but _really_ dead, and all those Death Eaters accounted for and actually punished, and me coming out of it in one piece…it doesn't sound very realistic at this point to me," Harry said.

"I hate it when he sounds like you," James muttered in Severus' ear.

"Well, that's too bad, because I don't think you'd get much trouble from anyone in my family if you decided to join it," Ron said. Harry smiled then.

"Reminds me of the first time I walked into the Burrow, or breakfast that morning. Ever since then your parents have treated me like one of the family. That's something I never had before. So, I guess that if…and it's a very big if…we do somehow manage to get out of this, then yeah, I probably would, as long as she hasn't moved on," Harry admitted.

"She won't," Ron shrugged. "Trust me, after spending the last summer with her, she's definitely not moving on."

"I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or not," Harry said, but was grinning just the same.

"Working hard, I see!"

Severus and James looked behind them to see Minerva standing in the doorway with a disapproving look on her face, and the two suddenly became intent on their work.

"All right, all right, the Headmaster isn't here with me, you can settle down," she protested, walking up to them and bringing a very large basket out from behind her. "I gather you haven't eaten this morning."

"They served porridge with a half a lump of butter for breakfast," Ron said. "For some reason, we didn't have much appetite."

"Right you are, well, consider this a brunch then. Perhaps the extra sugar will get the two of you moving to get this room done so we can set up for dinner."

"What are we going to have for that, hard rolls and water?" Ron asked sarcastically. Harry nudged him.

"Perhaps you will with that attitude, Mr. Weasley," Minerva chided him. "Now, don't forget what I said. After you eat, you really must get this room finished, by hook, wand, or crook! Happy Christmas," she said with a curled lip before leaving the room.

"Did she just give us permission to use our wands?" Harry whispered.

"Sure sounded like that to me. We'd better not let Snape catch us, though," Ron grinned, opening the basket. "Woah!" he said, even before the steam had truly had time to escape. "Look at all those mince pies!"

"Twelve for you and twelve for me, I'd gather," Harry said, tossing his rags away and rummaging through it. "Here are some sandwiches, too, and not pumpkin butter for a change. Devilled ham here. What's that, a small roast chicken?"

"Pigeon I think. Hand me that cheese, Harry, I found knives and forks and things here on the lid," Ron said. "Any bread?"

"Here," Harry said, handing it over before starting in on one of the sandwiches.

"So, what was your best Christmas ever, Harry?" Ron asked.

"That's an easy one. Christmas during my first year here at Hogwarts, of course, when I got my Dad's cloak," Harry said with a smile. James smiled softly as well. "Yours?"

"The year I got my first broom that didn't belong to anyone before me," Ron chuckled, Harry chuckling along with him.

"They were _supposed_ to be getting punished!" Severus snarled, tightening his fists.

"Oh, come, now, you can't expect them to handle detention on that sort of scale on empty stomachs, Severus. Let the boys have a break."

"I hardly have much choice in the matter at the moment, but you can be sure I am going to speak to Minerva about it!"

"What I wouldn't do to listen in to that conversation," James said. "Look, you got what you want. They're spending Christmas on their hands and knees without any presents at all, what's one little gesture of good will going to do?"

"Obviously, it's going to undermine everything! They are here to pay for stealing that chair. They are not supposed to be having a good time!" Severus said angrily.

"Sorry, Severus, I'm afraid I can't sympathize with your position in this," James said, patting his back in a way that made Severus look even angrier. "You go about your business and never really see these boys except when they're in trouble, but I have watched my son every day since I died. And do you know, it's been almost a year since I've seen him smile like that, and all it took was one simple gesture of kindness to chip away a piece of that dark cloud surrounding him to let the light in again. It's the little things that matter, Severus, and the little things that truly determine who we are, not the big events or the big failures or accomplishments or goals or battles as you imagine them. The world will change when people change, and all people have to do to change is to turn one angry word into an understanding one. That single instant, that tiny miniscule moment in which an act of kindness you may find unnecessary happens can be the most profound moment to someone else…not in a day or a year, but a lifetime. That basket just turned one of the worst Christmases my son has ever had into one he would always remember. You he will see as nothing but a murderer."

"I could care less how he sees me, Potter," Severus said. "I do what I must."

"Perhaps you do," James said coldly. "But you also go to no great effort to do any more than you must. Come, I have more to show you." Reluctantly, Severus took James' sleeve rather than have to be wrestled to the ground again. But he was already wishing that this part of his night was over.


	7. Chapter 7

VII

Molly Weasley strode over to a large dinner bell dangling over the kitchen window and rang it smartly, despite the fact that Severus didn't hear anything come out of it. In fact, only a Weasley could hear it, no matter where on the planet they happened to be.

"Breakfast! Come on, sleepyheads, it's Christmas morning, you know! Isn't anyone hungry?" Like a stampede, Weasleys began to appear from everywhere, inside and out, grabbing a chair at the impossibly long table that didn't even remotely look as if it should fit in a kitchen that size at all. There was a great deal of fuss from Molly when Fleur walked in with Bill leaning on her with a smile, and Molly would not hear another word until he was comfortably seated. Charlie had his hands full with his three rascals, practically tossing them to his wife to get them to settle into a seat.

"Hail, hail, the gang's almost all here! Where's Dad at?"

"He'll be home shortly," Molly assured them.

"He got called away in the middle of the night again, didn't he? I thought I heard the door," said George.

"Yeah, who died this time, Mum?" Fred asked.

"Now, there's no reason to assume that every time your father gets called to work that someone has died," Molly said hotly. But the tension in her voice was enough for most of them to exchange looks. "Ah! Here he comes now," she said after a furtive look at the family clock. "Pour the drinks out, Ginny, dear! I think I'll step out to meet him," she said, wiping her hands off on her apron before going to the door.

She opened it just as he was about to come in, and after a wan smile he kissed her, waving in response to the chorus coming from the kitchen as he pulled his wife aside.

"How bad?" Molly whispered.

"As bad as it gets," Arthur whispered back. "Three different villages went up in smoke…mixed neighborhoods, but mostly Muggle. Well over a hundred people dead."

"And on Christmas Eve," Molly murmured in horror.

"Their government wants an explanation, not that I blame them. They're talking about calling up troops and heavy artillery, despite the fact we've warned them it'll only make the situation worse. None of that compares what happened at the hospital…"

"The eggs are getting cold!" Fred hollered from the kitchen.

"Don't mention any of this to them right now, Molly…"

"Oh, no, not today, not on Christmas. They'll find out about it soon enough as it is," Molly agreed.

"Come on, then, let's go put a brave face on things, shall we?" Arthur said with a weak smile, wrapping an arm around his wife. She nodded, forcing a smile on her own face as they walked in. "Happy Christmas, everyone! I can't remember the last time I've seen so many red heads at this table!"

"Still, there is someone missing," Charlie said, looking around while bouncing his youngest on his lap. "Where's Ronald?"

"At Hogwarts, of course. He didn't feel right leaving Harry alone," Molly explained as she and Ginny began setting out the food. (Fleur still hadn't quite managed to earn kitchen privileges yet.)

"So, why didn't they just come here?" Bill asked.

"Professor McGonagall didn't think it would be safe for Harry or us to have him outside of the school right now," Arthur explained as he sat down. "Perhaps she has a point." Molly gazed at him thoughtfully.

"How could he possibly safe in that castle with Snape there?" Ginny asked in an agitated tone. "He's probably just waiting for the opportunity to corner him and send him to…"

"Don't you dare say that name, young lady, especially not at Christmas!" Molly cut her off with a frown. "Now, sit down and eat. I don't want to hear another word against anyone today, not even the Headmaster."

"That will take some doing," George said, and Fred sniggered.

"I just don't understand why everyone completely misses the fact that Snape murdered Dumbledore to give control to the school to…"

"Ginny, your mother said that was enough," Arthur said firmly.

"I'm surprised you didn't stay at the castle yourself, Ginny," Fred said. "Ron told us you two were awful tight last year."

"Yeah, you should have stayed and given him someone to kiss under the mistletoe," George added. "Now who has he got to kiss?"

"Ron," the twins both said together, grinning at each other.

Ginny got up and threw her utensils down and stormed up the stairs, while Molly rubbed her head.

"Perhaps zumvun should go talk wis her?" Fleur suggested.

"I'll go up in a bit once she's had a bit of time to herself," Molly said.

"Fred…George…" Arthur started with a sigh. "You know, you are adults now, and I can't bloody well send you to your rooms anymore, but for goodness sake, let's all make a greater than normal effort to make this Christmas as pleasant as possible for everyone? Ginny is under a lot of stress, as we all are. Now, Molly, how about some sort of Christmas grace, and when Ginny comes back down, we'll start on the presents."

"Can I open mine first, Grandpa?" asked one of Charlie's kids.

"Youngest to oldest, and everyone gets their turn, that's how it works in this house, Timothy," Arthur said, shaking a finger at him. "Go ahead, Molly."

"Well, I suppose if I am thankful for anything, it's the fact that we're all here, safe and sound…something I know most folks tend to take for granted in less trying times," Molly said. "May we all be thankful for what we have instead of missing what we don't have, and may we all have a peaceful, warm, loving…"

"Don't press your luck, Mum," Fred put in, earning a round of chuckles.

"_Understanding _holiday," Molly continued. "And may God look after those close to use who aren't with us…Ron, Harry, and all of our friends, from the Ministry to Hogwarts."

"Except Snape," George put in.

"No, no, God bless Snape as well," Molly said, sitting down.

"God bless Snape?" Even Percy repeated that back in a questioning tone.

"If anyone needs it, he does. Now tuck in, it's getting cold," Molly said. Fred and George shrugged at each other as everyone began to concentrate on their food and on catching up about what everyone had been doing since the first of Yule.

"You know, I always knew that Molly was overly nice, but that's pushing it," James decided. "Ever think you would ever hear anyone blessing you?"

"No," Severus said flatly.

"Me either," James admitted.

"Fine, now that we've seen this silly family holiday ritual, may we go?" Severus asked.

"I only wish we could," James said somberly.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Severus squinted at him. Just then, a blood curdling scream rang out.

"What was that?"

"It was Ginny!" Molly screeched, Arthur bounding out of his chair and taking the stairs by two. Everyone else got to their feet, wondering what was amiss, until Ginny dashed down with a look of pure terror on her face and Arthur following close behind.

"Wands out, everyone! Charlie, grab your kids and get them out of here, use the floo! NOW!" Arthur said.

"What's going on?" Percy asked. "Is it Death Eaters? Should I send up a Ministry flare?"

"It's too late for that," Arthur said. "There's an army of Dementors coming towards us even as we speak. Ginny! I want you to Apparate to Hogsmeade and head to Hogwarts!"

"No! I'm staying!"

"It may be you they're after! Do as your told!" Arthur shouted back.

"If I am who they're after, I'm not about to lead them to Harry," Ginny said stubbornly, taking out her wand. "I'm staying."

It was then that the cloud of despair began to hit them. Severus could see it in their expressions, the fire that had been in their eyes a minute ago ready to fight had dulled dramatically, even as Arthur tried to coax them on. But as the Dementors began to swarm into the house, using their breaths to make them tumble to the crowd, three robed Death Eaters, lead by Lucius, entered with wands blazing.


	8. Chapter 8

VIII

"Get up, Severus! Get up, I say!" James dragged Severus back up to his feet. He had closed his eyes only for a minute, refusing to witness the inevitable, and opened them to stumble in a darkened room. "I'm not done with you yet! There's one last thing I want to show you!"

"I don't want to see any more," Severus said stonily.

"Yeah, I bet you don't, but you have no choice," James said, pulling him forward. Slowly, Severus' eyes began to adjust to the light.

They appeared to be in some sort of cellar, Severus realized, and he had absolutely no idea where he was. Dim light pierced in from a hole in what seemed to be a trap door, while the air had an acrid smell to it, perhaps coming from the moldy volumes of books lining one side of the wall. They were thick books of the same title, Severus realized, and then realized they were some religious songbooks.

"We seem to be in the basement of some sort of church," Severus said. "I don't recall ever being here before."

"You were here last night, actually, just not in this particular room," James said. "We are below the remains of the Muggle town once known as Haven's Bluff that you and your 'friends' destroyed." Severus blinked.

"Why?"

"I just thought you'd like to meet the only two survivors of that attack, Severus. Over here," James said.

Severus walked over to see that what he had first mistaken as a bundle of old blankets seemed to be moving, and in the poor light, he could barely make out two small figures underneath them.

"This is Essie and Corey Willowby, sheep farmers. They were walking to the church to help set up the nativity when the attack struck. Fortunately…or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, the girl has the gift of Sight, and they were able to get out of the way. The boy is a real magic talent too, although he has yet to really develop it," he explained, waving a hand and causing the blanket to slip.

The cool air around them made Corey awaken and he sat up, shivering.

"The boy looks to be old enough for Hogwarts, but I know I've never heard that name," Severus said.

"Overlooked, as is the girl. It seems to be their lot in life," James said with a shrug.

"Essie," Corey whispered, gently shaking her. "Essie, I think it's over. In fact, I think it's morning."

"Are you sure they're gone?" Essie whispered back. "I'm very cold."

"I know, me too. Let's go have a look about," Corey said.

"I'm not sure I want to. I'm not sure you do either," Essie said.

"We can't just hide in this basement until we either freeze to death or starve to death, no matter what's up there," Corey reasoned, getting to his feet. "I'm sure someone will be looking for us."

"Nobody's looking for them," James confided to Severus as they headed for the ladder. "Everyone they knew is dead, and the Ministry hasn't managed to even get as far as this town yet."

"What do you mean they haven't gotten to this town yet?" Severus said with alarm. "They were informed right after it happened…"

"This was the smallest town of the ones that got hit last night, Severus, they had to prioritize. This bluff is remote enough that nobody outside of this town is likely to even realize anything is wrong for hours," James explained calmly as Severus scrambled up the ladder after them.

But as he reached the top, he stopped short, for the two children had numbly stepped over the corpses in the church and stood looking at their town, which except for a couple of fire-gutted brick houses had been completely reduced to cinders.

"Dad?" Essie whispered after they had stood in silence for some time. "Charlie? Mummy? Mummy!"

"Essie, wait!" Corey said as she took off running, having to sprint to catch up with his sister. A new-fallen snow caused the ground to be slippery at best, but that was compounded by the fact that several corpses lay in front of their houses along the street. He finally caught up to her as she reached the farm house, sighing with relief when she saw it.

"The house looks all right!" she called out as Severus and James faded into the scene.

But Severus remembered this particular house, and already knew that things weren't all right. Corey, too, knew it wasn't, for the barn seemed to have been completely obliterated; parts of their flock were on both side of what was left of the fence, and Corey remembered that his brother and father had been working in the barn when they left.

As he got closer to the barn, he suddenly stopped as he noticed two charred forms among the cinders. He then heard his sister cry out and ran back to find her sitting on the porch crying.

"Mum?" Corey asked. Essie slowly shook her head and started to cry harder. Corey wrapped an arm around her. "We should try the telephone, call for help."

"I tried, it's dead…dead like everyone!" Essie said, shaking.

"Well, we can't stay here. We can't stay here, Essie, they might come back. Let's go check the old Pince place."

"What for? It's just an abandoned old house."

"No it's not, there's a witch living there," Corey said. "I saw her fly in on a broom one night with my own two eyes…"

"Corey, how could you? How could you make up stories with…with…"

"I'm not making up stories, not this time!" Corey promised her. "Come on, let's go over the field." But as they neared the lower wall, the two of them stopped short, because they saw that house too was turned into cinders.

"It's a dream. It's just a dream, and we're just going to wake up, and everything's going to be okay," Essie murmured. Corey gazed at her, then back at the house.

"Whoever could kill a witch must have had magic themselves," Corey said. "Even if the phones did work, I bet no one would believe us if we told them the truth."

"Corey, what are we going to do? What are we going to do if…if we can't stay home?"

"We'll walk," Corey said at last. "We'll walk down the next road until we pass a car or get to the next town, whatever it takes. Come on, Essie. I'm not going to lose you too."

As the two of them headed for the road, James walked over and stood silently by Severus' side.

"Will they make it, James? Will they make it to the next town all right?"

"I guess only the future can tell, Severus, and my job is the present, not the future," James said. "But I am going to warn you now that it's the future you will see next, and it is as bleak as anything that has happened to you so far."

"The future is changeable, James. I'm not a believer of fate," Severus said.

"Really? Why are you helping my son, then?" James asked.

"I am simply doing whatever it takes," Severus snapped. "Whatever I must."

"Then why do you care if two freshly made orphans freeze to death or not, Severus? After all, saving them would take more effort than just doing what you 'have to do,'" James said icily. "I know, I know, you feel that your efforts under the hood are justified…the greater good will make it worth the effort, in your opinion, even if it costs you your soul. But if you keep up that little spy thing of yours at the expense of your friends, coworkers, and innocent bystanders without lifting a finger to help when you _do_ have the power, you deserve to burn in Hell."

A burst of flames made Severus open his eyes, but it was only the fireplace in his room, kicking up sparks after perhaps hitting a sappy vein. Severus stared at the clock, which had not yet reached three, and laid back down again, staring at the ceiling.


	9. Chapter 9

IX

When Severus awoke again at the chime of three, he saw something so terrifying that he immediately grabbed his wand and leapt out of bed.

"_Expecto Patronum!"_ he shouted, and a dragon made of white light burst free of his wand, spewing the Dementor with its flames.

But the Dementor seemed completely unaffected. Instead it simply floated there, holding out its arm. Severus paused and squinted at it for a moment, able to barely make out the fire through its robes.

"You know, I may be able to wrap my brain around Sirius being the ghost, even Dumbledore or Potter. But the idea of a creature that imbibes souls being a ghost I take issue with, because you don't have a soul of your own!" The Dementor, however, didn't seem too offended by Severus' reaction. It simply stood there with its arm out. "Don't tell me, you're here to show me the future, and plan to reap the rewards of my reaction to it after the fact," he glowered. "Very well, let's get it over with."

From the second Severus touched the creature's sleeve, the room darkened dramatically, and as Severus' eyes adjusted, he realized he was standing in a busy pawn shop…Borkin and Burke's, he realized. He himself had been in there on one occasion or another, but he shook his head with a frown, wondering what he was doing there now. Cloaked figures mulled around the items for sale, too disguised for Severus to pick out any one of them at first as a reason for coming, and he was growing rather impatient. It was then that he caught movement from the corner of his eye and stared at an item on a round side-table.

"Wait a moment, that's the water clock from the Headmaster's Study!" Severus said sharply, giving the table a closer look. "How did something like that get here? Dumbledore's candy dish? And I swear that tapestry there is the same one that hung in the lower corridor near Slytherin house. I must have passed that thing a thousand times…what is all of this doing here? Hey, that's MINE!" Severus shouted as he ran over to another counter and stared at a set of alchemist's scales. "Who's been raking Hogwarts clean? Someone's going to pay for this…"

Suddenly someone's hand went through him and touched the scales, and Severus stepped back and prepared to scream at them, whether they could hear him or not. The woman crouched down a bit to get a closer look, her hand moving across the scales and gently picking it up to see the initials underneath.

"Hey," hissed another woman of the same slight build standing near the other table. "I found something over here."

"I'm getting this too," the woman said, carefully setting all the counterweights in the dish and picking it up.

"We're not here for that," the other woman chided her, grabbing the candy dish and quickly catching the water clock, which nearly went tumbling to the floor. "We're supposed to be looking for that painting."

"There's not going to be enough left of it to salvage," the woman sighed but headed to the back room anyhow. Severus followed behind with his eyes intent on his alchemy scales, but they wandered as Severus kept recognizing other things from Hogwarts and out of his lab. Several items from his lab attracted the woman's attention as well, and she grabbed a phial rack and some more measuring equipment before the other woman hissed again.

"How dare you stand there and sort through my personal belongings like that? Don't you know this stuff is quite obviously hot? Can't you both possibly see that it doesn't belong here?" Severus snarled at her, but of course they didn't hear him.

"Here it is! Stashed with a bunch of others behind this bureau. Stop shopping and get over here and help me!"

"I am sorry, but this stuff is for your benefit as well as your husband's, you know," the first woman hissed.

"Never mind that! This is more important, and I'd rather not trip trying to get it out myself!" she hissed, and reluctantly the first woman helped her pull out the frame. The canvas had been shredded in every direction, but even worse the face of the painting had been burnt clear away. But even still, Severus recognized the pose and robes and the rings on his hands. It was the painting of Albus Dumbledore that hung with the gallery of other Headmaster's in the study. "Oh, no."

"I knew it would be bad," the first woman sighed. "Should we still risk it?"

"Yes, I'm not going back without it," the other woman insisted. "Come on."

"Wait until I found out who is responsible for this outrage," Severus muttered as he followed them to the front, his eyes noticing something else. "At least she didn't take my mortar and pestle." But as the two woman past the stand full of marble mortars, the first woman immediately tweaked it from the group, using it to put the scale counterweights in. "Just for that, I hope you haven't even one day's luck with it!" Severus shouted at them.

"Ah! I see you ladies have fine taste," Burke said, smiling as he studied their faces under their cloaks. "A bit of late Christmas shopping, girls?"

"Yes, you were one of the only shops open this late, and my sister and I were a bit desperate," the second woman said.

"Well, not too desperate, I trust. Many of these items are top mark, especially the alchemy equipment."

"I only want the best," the first woman said with a nod.

"You have a keen eye, my dear," Burke said. "And what have you there?"

"I found this gold frame stored in the back," the second woman said. "I was wondering if you could tell me if it's enchanted to keep dust off? I have something special that needs a protective frame."

"I think you've chosen well then, for this one even has enchantments on it to preserve color and prevent dampness from molding the fabric. Of course, that means it comes at a heftier price…times are hard, I know. They are for me as well…"

"I understand," the second woman said with a nodded. "What will it cost for all of this?"

"Oh, all of that, and the nice crystal dish? Thirty Galleons?"

"Thirty Galleons? For a bit of alchemy equipment and one old frame?" the first woman said with a dropped jaw.

"And the dish," Burke added.

"Well yes, but don't you think that's a bit much considering…"

"Now, sister, it's his Christmas as well. Care to put some of the alchemist equipment back?"

"No, I most certainly do not," the first woman said with irritation.

"Twenty-five, sir," the second woman offered. "You needn't even bother to clean the frame, we'll take it all as-is."

"Oh, very well, but you're taking advantage of my Christmas spirit," Burkes said. Severus stood seething as the items were shrunk and put into packages and the two women left.

"Well, aren't we going to follow them?" Severus asked impatiently when the Dementor didn't move. "Well, I'm going! I want to know where they're taking my stuff!" he declared and ran out after them.

The sky was dark and grey and a biting light snow floated in the air as people in black cloaks and draping hoods filled Knockturn Alley. It really wasn't all that surprising; very typical, in fact, for most there didn't want to be seen. Fortunately the two women, of the same height and traveling together, were easy to pick out of the crowd. But as they turned into Diagon Alley, Severus saw that Diagon looked no different than the alley they had just come from. It was dark with boarded windows, and not one face could be seen beneath hoods which people grasped tightly around them with gloved hands. Bars were on many of the windows, and Severus didn't miss the small regiment of Goblins lingering in front of the bank. Ollivander's shop had a large sign nailed across the door that read, "Closed indefinitely!" although anyone could have easily figured it out, for the shop was an empty charred skeleton of a building long gutted.

Severus was so busy looking around that he almost lost track of the two hooded women who had ducked into the robe shop. Severus frowned but followed them into the practically empty shop. Only Madam Malkin herself and one startled customer were there to notice their entry. Slowly the women removed their hoods, and Severus got another surprise; it was the potion assistant from Beauxbatons, Jennifer Craw, with tightly cropped hair…and there were too of them!

"Ah, it's the Conner twins! I have your robes right there, so you may try them on in the back."

"Thank you," one of the Jennifer's said as Malkin turned back to her work.

"Hold your arms out, dear, so I can get your inner measurements," Malkin coaxed, turning her gently towards the window. But Severus' quick eye didn't miss the fact that neither woman made one play at picking up the robes by the door and instead they went in without them. Squinting slightly and waving any thoughts of propriety aside, Severus continued to follow them, unsurprised when they passed the dressing rooms and went on towards the back. Immediately, he saw the sculpture of a Phoenix, and became even more interested when one of them touched it and the fireplace in the next room burst into flames. Quickly the two girls ran into it, and Severus had to scramble to make it before the door closed again.

They stepped into a short, rocky corridor and then into the back of a large basement set up to look like a classroom. Three other corridors led out in the other corners of the rectangular area as well, all coming from and leading to other secret locations. Several others were present, all of which Severus immediately recognized, but his eyes went to the figure sitting on the desk near the head of the room.

"Good, you're back! I was beginning to worry," Remus Lupin said as the two women came forward. "How did it go?"

"We got it, although I'm not sure if it'll do us any good," said one of the Jennifer's.

"Well, we'll just see what the resident painter thinks," Remus said, looking between them. "So, which one of you is my wife?" The two Jennifers grinned at each other. "Come on, don't make me have to force you to try to walk in a straight line again," he teased, still looking between them. "Aha! I see pink roots!" One of the Jennifer's immediately put her hands on her head. "Got you!"

The real Jennifer smiled and stepped away, putting the packages on the desk while Tonks half-heartedly fended off the attack. Hermione stepped over to Jennifer, helping her get the items out.

"I'm glad you're back. I think your potion is about ready, although it's a little thick," she said quietly.

"I know, but hopefully some of the stuff I picked up today will help that," Jennifer said, then slowly took the frame out.

"Oh, how horrible! There's hardly anything left!" Hermione said, aggrieved.

"I imagine that was quite intentional. Voldemort doesn't want to leave even the memory of him. I hope your friend Pyther will be able to make something of it."

"If anyone can fix it, he can. He's painted or cleaned at least half the paintings that hung at the school," Hermione began, then grew quiet.

"You miss the school, don't you?" Jennifer asked.

"Of course. The day they closed Hogwarts was one of the saddest days of my life, next to…that day," Hermione said, looking down.

"I understand," Jennifer said, glancing up to see Ron coming over. Hermione immediately went over to hug him, so Jennifer leaned the painting against the wall with the back facing out before dutifully gathering up the alchemy equipment and heading over to the fireplace to check the potion there.

Remus Lupin had returned to the front of the room, staring impatiently at his watch and greeting others as they came in. There weren't many…a handful at best. Oliver Wood was there, and Seamus, although several large scars were on his somber face. Filius Flitwick sat next to a sour-looking goblin and Sam Honeyduke leaned against the other wall, also looking grim. Everyone became alert when there was movement from one of the corridors and a loud thudding sound accompanied footsteps. Two figures appeared, one with a protective arm gripped on the other. As they took down their hoods, Severus saw it was Neville Longbottom and Alastor Moody.

"Sorry we're late," Moody grunted. "Had to dodge a thing or two, seeing how things are."

"It matters more that you are simply here," Lupin said quietly. "Late is better than not at all. Care to have a seat? How are you, Neville? Hanging in there?"

"He's not exactly the easiest taskmaster in the world," Neville confided. Moody's magic eye swung around to look at him, and he harrumphed.

"Good, I'm glad to hear it," Lupin smiled, then waited for everyone to get settled. "Welcome, everyone. Thank you for coming. Before we again, as you know, I need to take roll call of those not here," he said. "After we get that nasty business over with, we'll see about livening things up a bit." The room was deadly silent. "Figg?"

"Dead," Moody said expressionlessly. Lupin nodded with the same stony expression and struck her name on the blackboard.

"Lovegood?"

"Still missing," Hermione said expressionlessly. Lupin nodded, glancing up at the blackboard at the MIA list. "Pomfrey?"

"Still alive, at last report," Moody said.

"Well! That's something, isn't it?" Lupin said with a thin smile, but it immediately waned. "Shacklebolt?" he asked, looking over at Moody who was shaking his head. Lupin struck another name. "Sprout?" Snape squinted, glancing at the board as his was skipped.

"Gone," Neville said. Hermione and Ron looked over at him in shock, Hermione turning back around with glassy eyes.

"And Slughorn?"

"How the devil would anyone know?" Moody said irritably. "As far as I know he's probably a lawn ornament somewhere."

"I think I'll keep him listed as MIA then," Remus said, then exhaled and glanced at Tonks. She nodded encouragingly to him. "Welcome to the December meeting of the resistance league. I'm happy to say that we do have some good news to report. Moody?"

"Yes, I finally got rid of that blighter Scrimgeor," Moody said. "What a waste of breath." Neville looked uncomfortable, and Remus frowned at him. "Oh yeah, and the boy's coming along, but we're still working on his reflexes."

"Good, perhaps it's time for another pirate printing of the _Veritable Wizard_ then, Hermione," Lupin said.

"I'll get right on it," Hermione said.

Severus made a face and shook his head. What were they doing? Why try to talk up Longbottom to the public? Where in the world was Potter? His name was not mentioned among the missing. Severus looked up on the chalkboard, but he wasn't listed there either. But his face paled dramatically when he saw that Minerva was; and her name was stricken through.

"We want everyone to know," Lupin continued, "that the resistance's plan B is alive and well, and we still need to drum up as much support as possible. And, I would also like to announce, no offense meant to Neville, that plan C is also progressing. I have…secretly, of course, gotten the consent of the entire Auror body to be licensed as an Auror myself."

"Entire body, there's only five left in the entire country," Ron whispered to Hermione.

"Now six," Hermione whispered back.

"So! Now that that's been said, Happy Christmas! Let's get this party-slash-wake rolling, shall we?" he said, turning around and cranking up the phonograph while Oliver and Ron started pushing back the tables to make a dance floor.

"I think I'll start off with a stiff drink," Neville said.

"Couldn't hurt," Moody told him, drinking out of his flask.

"I have your drink, Remus," Jennifer called out from the back of the room, bringing him a bubbling mixture that made everyone's nose wrinkle when she past it.

"Oh, gee, thanks," Lupin said half-heartedly. "Isn't there any way at all to disguise the flavor?"

"I'll work on it in my spare time, if I ever get spare time," Jennifer said back.

"Well, there's time now," he suggested.

"Oh, no you don't, Lupin. If you haven't noticed there is a lack of unmarried women at this party, she's staying," Oliver insisted.

"I get the first turn!" Moody said jumping up and pushing Oliver aside, offering Jennifer a hand. Tonks jumped up as well, and fortunately Remus was used to her constantly tripping over his feet, while Oliver and Neville were futilely attempting to cut in on Moody.

Hermione wasn't in much mood for dancing. Ron gazed at her somber face and took her hand where they sat on one of the desks.

"I would give anything for Harry to be here right now," she said at last.

"I know," Ron said quietly. "I'm sure everyone else feels the same way."

"If only he had listened to Snape that night…"

"What? Come on, Hermione, Snape deserved what he got…"

"Did he?" Hermione said.

"They took my sister, Hermione! What did you expect Harry to do? Snape had no right to expect Harry to stay out of it, and there's no way Harry was going to trust that murderer."

"But it was a trap, and you know it! Everyone knew it!" Hermione said back. "If he had stayed, he would be alive right now. Let's face it, Ginny wouldn't have made it no matter what Harry did."

"No you forget, Snape promised he'd get her out if Harry stayed," Ron said. "What a crock. If it were me, I'd have probably done the same thing to Snape myself."

"What? What did he do to me?" Severus blinked in surprise, but unfortunately Remus came over to break up the heated discussion.

"We are supposed to be having a party, you two," Remus chided them. "There are three hundred and sixty-four other days to lament over what we could have done or should have done. Now, dance, get something to eat, or grab a present to exchange, I don't care, but no more of this."

"Hermione's still trying to convince me Snape wasn't a traitor," Ron snorted.

"Frankly, it really doesn't matter anymore, does it? What's done is done, and we have to live with the consequences of Harry and his decisions whether we like it or not," Remus said. "Now, dance with her, or I shall dance with her myself."

"Hey, dance with your own wife," Ron said and got up, Hermione still in hand. Remus smiled wanly as they joined the others and went back over to Tonks.

"What happened? Don't stop talking! I want to know what happened between me and Potter that makes you think I caused all of this!" Severus shouted. But just then he felt a chill hand on his shoulder and turned to see the Dementor over him. "Harry is dead, isn't he? That's why everything here is so dismal. Voldemort has taken over! I demand to know how I am supposed to be involved in this!"

The air grew cold, and Severus found himself standing outside in the icy December air. As he turned away from the Dementor, he saw a terrible sight. He was looking over the lake at Hogwarts…it was unlit…still…and tangled, thorny brush seemed to have overtaken the grounds. Boards were over the windows…some blowing in the wind.

Severus had seen many horrors in his life, but nothing seemed as cold as that castle at that moment. Memories both good and bad flashed through him as he gazed at it, but none of them had any warmth…even the memory of Dumbledore seemed icy…lonely…disappointed.

"So it's done then. Everything has failed and he got everything he wanted," Severus said. "But I had nothing to do with this, Dementor. I did what I could to stop it and you know it!" he snapped, turning on the Dementor again. But when he did so, the scenery changed again. This time he was standing on a hill…a cemetery, Severus realized as he turned again. "What is this going to show me? What is this going to show that I didn't already know?" Severus snapped. But the Dementor pointed him towards the graves, and Severus began to wander, running first into McGonagall's grave, then Sprout's, Sinistra's and Pince's. But as he passed by them, he suddenly noticed that blood had been painted upon the backs of them in the shape of the Dark Mark. It was as he was backing up that he ran into what was left of Harry's…for despite its honorable size it had been chipped, broken and cracked except for the date of December twenty-sixth, which had been clearly circled in blood and the Mark prevalently drawn both the front and back.

"I should have known this never would have worked. I should have known all along you would be too weak for this stupid prophecy," Severus muttered. "You had to be a fool! You had to blindly go into yet another situation you couldn't handle! YOU GOT WHAT YOU DESERVED!" he screamed, turning his back to it and hurrying down the hill, practically tripping over the Weasley family gravestone in his impatience to get away. "Couldn't afford anything better, I suppose, than a single stone at the bottom of the hill. Fine! Good riddance to all of you then, for letting Voldemort do this!" he said. He turned and stumbled on another fallen stone, his face paling as he read it; Two Willowby children; Ex-Survivors of Haven's Bluff. Severus shook his head, not wanting to believe such a stone could possibly be there, marked with blood, and began backing up so quickly that he tripped and landed in front of a grave.

Severus slowly looked up at the grave to see his own name…the date was the day after present day Christmas: Severus Snape, Traitor to All But the Dark Lord. But that was not as startling as the fact that some person had taken a knife to the grave and had carved an unmistakable jagged symbol upon it.

"Potter! Potter kills me? YOU FOOL! You stupid, STUPID IDIOT! Do you really think I would have come back to the school if I didn't have to worry about your worthless ass? Do you really think for one moment that I couldn't have killed you the night I killed Dumbledore, or why we didn't drag you to the Dark Lord right then and there? I was the only one who could have found the Horcruxes! I LOST EVERYTHING BECAUSE OF YOU!" Severus furiously kicked up the dirt around his grave in defiance before turning on the Dementor. "Do you really think I'm going to lay down and take this kind of future? Well, I have a surprise for you then. I don't believe in a fate I can't control! How dare you show me such dark endings? How dare you undermine everything I have fought for? This fate MUST be changed. It WILL be changed. And nothing you can do can stop me from changing it!"

The Dementor drew itself up then, towering above Severus, drawing his skeletal hands up to his hood threateningly.

"So you think to show me all these things than rob me of my soul?" Severus said with angry tears in his eyes. "Fine! Go ahead! It's not like it's worth much! I hope I give you a bellyache!"

Severus braced himself as the Dementor removed its hood, quite certain that within an instant that everything that was Severus Snape would be no more.


	10. Chapter 10

X

Severus Snape woke up with a jolt and the sun in his eyes, coming in from the window in his bedroom suite. He sat up and stared at the familiar setting as if it had been a year or more since he had seen it. He tossed the blankets aside and stood up, reaching for his bathrobe until he realized he still had his day robes on, then ran out into the study and popped open the doors, completely startling Minerva who had just reached the top of the stairs.

"What day is it?" Severus asked frantically. "Don't just stand there staring at me as if I'm a ghost," he said, then looked at his hand to make sure he couldn't see through it. "What day is it?"

"It's Monday, Severus," Minerva said warily.

"Christmas?" Severus asked, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"Yes, Severus, but you cancelled that…"

"What time is it?" Severus interrupted, grabbing the watch around her neck despite her protest and staring at her. "There's still time! Come, Minerva, we have a lot to do! Come on, up to my observatory, hurry!"

"Severus, let go of me! Have you gone utterly mad?" Minerva protested as he dragged her in.

"Yes! Now shut up and do as you are told! I want you to send your best Patronus to the Weasley residence immediately and tell them to leave at once, they are in very grave danger! They must fly now, do you understand?"

"Yes, but why?"

"Because if I do it, it will jeopardize everything! Just do it, Minerva! Tell them to go!"

"Where?"

"I don't care! No, tell them to come here!" Severus said, opening the observatory window. "Yes, they're safer here, the whole lot of them…and tell them to grab that stupid clock of theirs and anything else they don't want _him_ to get a hold of!"

"All right, all right!" Minerva said, gathering her thoughts and trying to calm down. _"Expecto Patronum!"_

As a lioness of light burst out of her wand and went charging out over the sky, Severus suddenly felt a bit lightheaded, allowing himself a quick instant to exhale in relief before turning back to Minerva who was looking at him questioningly.

"I have to go take care of something," Severus said. "I suppose I should probably change first, but I must move quickly. On your way down to give Potter that silly basket of yours, tell him to hurry it up on the Great Hall for we need to set it up for guests…and make sure the kitchens make something season appropriate!"

"Season appropriate?" Minerva said, then caught herself. "What basket?"

"Do you deny the fact you were plotting to intervene on my punishment of Potter and Weasley?" Severus challenged her expressionlessly.

"Ah…well, no…"

"Then proceed, but make sure that room is finished. And make all those decorations and that tree you made invisible are turned visible again! As if I would have bought that sort of spell for an instant!" Severus said, stomping down the stairs. Minerva stared after him until he disappeared from view, paused to feel her own forehead and check her pulse, then hurried off to make the intended contraband with a smile of disbelief on her face.

A minute later, Severus came out in his newer dress robes and a long black overcoat, a bundle under his arm. But he did pause in the study for a single moment to uncover the picture of Dumbledore he had so quickly been willing to cover it the day before. The painting of Dumbledore stirred in his sleep and opened an eye, a faint smile on his face.

"Sorry about that," Severus murmured. "Won't happen again." Despite the fact the painting wasn't quite sure he believed it would happen again, he nodded politely with a broader, enigmatic smile as the man hurried out of the castle and across the grounds, then Apparated to the ruins of Haven's Bluff.

After Harry and Ron got back to work after their heavy snack and finally polished the last chair in the Great Hall, Minerva came bustling back in with Professor Flitwick right behind her.

"Well done, if I do say so myself. Even Headmaster Snape won't be able to complain about that job…well, not much, at any rate," she amended. "Now, I'll ask you to step up here out of the way. I need to put some tables together to accommodate our guests."

"Guests? There are guests coming?" Harry asked.

"Yes, quite a number. Headmaster Snape invited them," Minerva said distractedly.

"Do you know who they are?" Harry asked with alarm, dreading who Snape might be letting into the castle.

"Of course, Mr. Potter. I trust you won't be disappointed," she said, levitating the tables into place in the center of the room. "Come, now, since you're still lingering, you can help me with the chairs." Harry and Ron looked at one another in bewilderment, and that feeling grew when bright candlelight burst into life in behind them, and the Christmas tree that had been 'taken down' the day before reappeared, Flitwick nodding to himself in satisfaction.

"I think we need more holly and ivy wreathes, don't you?" Flitwick asked Minerva.

"Dazzle away, Filius! I dare that man to change his mind again!" Minerva said with exasperation, and then looked out the main doors. "Excuse me, here come some of our guests now. Hurry and finish those tables, you two!"

But when Ron looked up, the chairs he was moving with his wand stopped dead in the floor, for it was the entire Weasley clan. Immediately the entire room turned chaotic as everyone began greeting and hugging, ending, of course, when Fred and George began hugging each other and carrying on like they hadn't seen each other in months. Seeing that many of the chairs still strewn about, Percy and Bill chipped in to try and get them all into place, although it was slowed down by Charlie's kids jumping onto chairs yet to be moved so that they could get a free ride to the table, only to run back in attempt to catch the next set.

Harry noticed that Minerva had quickly pulled Arthur and Molly aside, but he became distracted when Ginny came over to greet them, hugging Ron and then looking timidly at Harry, who then gave her a friendly hug as well.

"What are you all doing here?" Ron asked.

"We got evacuated! Father ran in and told us we all had to get out and brought us here," Ginny explained.

"What?"

"That's all I know!" Ginny said, and Harry pushed past them and walked straight over to where Minerva and their parents were.

"I want to know what is going on, and the truth, if you don't mind," Harry demanded, and Arthur and Minerva exchanged a look.

"Now, Harry, what matters is that everyone's here safe and sound," Molly said reasonably. "And it'll make for a lovely Christmas! I was able to gather up all the Christmas gifts at our house, so we can make a real party of it. Where's yours, Harry?"

"I don't have any," Harry snapped. "Who evacuated the Burrow and why?"

"I did, Mr. Potter," Minerva said. "And as soon as we find out why, we'll tell you. Now, please ask Hermione to go gather the other students, please?"

"As soon as they find out why?" Harry murmured to himself in confusion as he walked back over to his friends, who were looking at him questioningly.

But what he was about to say died on his lips, for Severus Snape walked in, and he was not alone. Not only was he not alone, but he was acting in a way that Harry never seen before, for he had a comforting arm around two younger light-haired children which had both been bundled up in black Hogwarts cloaks. The surprise traveled through the entire group as one by one they looked up to see what he was staring at. Severus ignored them all, leading them straight over to Arthur.

"Who do you suppose they are?" Hermione whispered. "Does Snape still have living relatives?"

"If he does, they got the good side of the gene pool," Ron said.

Suddenly Arthur and Molly hugged the two children. Severus and Minerva backed away to have a private conversation of their own, when Minerva noticed they were being stared at.

"Hermione, please, fetch the other students? And tell them they can bring down their holiday things if they like. Oh, and go get yours too, Potter, Weasley."

"What things?" Harry demanded, making Severus look at him speculatively.

"Try under the tree in your common room, Potter."

"Well, we don't really have time to open them, do we, what with the chairs and all…" Ron said.

"I think you can finish that task some other day, Weasley…"

"And the points?"

"Don't push your luck, Potter," Severus said dangerously. "I am still out of a chair, as you'll recall."

"As to that, I have a surprise for you, Headmaster," Minerva said enigmatically, nodding to Flitwick. Flitwick, who had been patiently waiting near the tree the entire time suddenly move the entire thing over to reveal the Headmaster's dining chair, recently mended with a large red bow on it. "It took a trip to the mountains and a great deal of haggling and well, a carefully transfigured leaky boat that Hagrid was done with, but it all worked out in the end."

"Thank you, Minerva," Severus said. "But they're still not getting any points back. Now, if you don't mind, I still have a lot to do today…"

"You're not staying for dinner?" Minerva asked.

"I will be back later, there are arrangements to be made to make sure the attempted attack on the Weasleys doesn't happen again and also to pick up some things for the Willowby children and help get them settled, and I'm thinking about inviting one more guest, if she can manage the trip…Potter, are you still here? I thought you were told to get your things?" Severus scowled at him.

"Right," Harry said, grabbing Ron's arm and leading him out of the Great Hall. Turning his head around, he saw Snape looking after them, shaking his head at them before exiting the room from the back.

"What is with Snape today? I've never seen him act like that. Think someone's taken his place or something?" Ron asked. "Or has he just gone mental?"

"Either he has or I have," Harry said. "Did you hear what he said? There was going to be some sort of attack on your family today…could he have been the one who told McGonagall to send that warning? But no, why would he, when he means to destroy us? And did you see how he was treating those kids?"

"Well, I doubt it's because he suddenly got the Christmas Spirit, Harry," Ron said.

Even as I look back on that strange Christmas, I find myself amazed at the change that came over him during that single day. Many speculated later that finding the Willowby children had something to do with it…others agreed with Ron's theory that he had either been taken by an unseen force or had a generosity potion slipped in his drink. Of course, whatever the reason, I did still hate him, and was undeniably wary of him. But I did find that I wasn't quite as motivated to kill him…and later I was glad I didn't. But that, as I said, is another story, best left for others to tell. – Harry.

The End

_And to all my friends, Happy Holidays, and Merry Christmas. -JCWriter. _


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